


Musings of a Lonely Prophet

by BillieLD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s09e05 Dog Dean Afternoon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 10:23:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13832184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieLD/pseuds/BillieLD
Summary: Kevin is left alone in the bunker and he starts thinking.This was originally written for Seasons: A Supernatural Fan Fiction Anthology.





	Musings of a Lonely Prophet

Kevin wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the angels fell. He had barely slept and, while it felt like years, he knew it couldn’t have been over a month. The events of the last few days had been exhausting and he was glad Dean had given him a break in Branson. Just when he thought he was out, the oldest Winchester had shown up with a new tablet, the angel tablet, and had let Castiel shatter all his hopes and dreams with a few words. The angel tablet looked just like the demon tablet but had turned out to be a lot more challenging to translate and soon, Kevin felt on the brink of a mental breakdown. Thankfully, Dean had also seen the crash coming and decided to give him a break. But all good things must come to an end, and Dean had brought him back to the bunker with the worst of hangovers. Kevin had thought about running away, starting a new life away from monsters, angels, demons and everything supernatural, but he knew Castiel would find him and that if he failed to bring him back to his task, he would just kill him. He hadn’t seen Castiel since the fall and, while he could have fallen too, he was better safe than sorry. So, instead of a new life away from the Winchesters, he’d have to settle for a new life in the bunker, with the two hunters that had stormed into his life all those years ago and changed everything. 

Kevin had very few belongings, his life could fit in a backpack and he had packed it up time and time again as he moved from one safe house to another, none of which had proved to be safe enough for a prophet of the Lord. He had no ties with anyone either, nothing stopped him from running away but the fear that the angel had instilled in him. 

His cellphone rang, interrupting his musings and he quickly answered to silence the loud noise that made his head want to explode. It was only then that he was finally aware that he was alone in the bunker, Sam and Dean both gone on a hunt and calling to ask for his help to find out what was killing people in a small town in Oklahoma. 

He sighed as he caught a glance of the backpack that now contained his entire life, the same one he had let fall at the foot of the bed Dean had led him to the last time he had tried to leave. He promised himself that once he had found out what could be killing those people, he would unpack it. If he had to live here, the least he could do was try to get comfortable. 

He hadn’t gotten far in his research before getting another call from Sam.

“How do we speak to a dog?” The younger Winchester asked. 

“What?! A dog?” Kevin replied. “What do you need to talk to a dog for?” 

“He’s our only witness Kevin. There’s gotta be a spell for that somewhere in the millions of books we have in the bunker.” Sam said. 

Kevin sighed. “Alright. A spell to communicate with dogs. I’m on it.” He said before hanging up the phone. 

If someone would have told him a few years ago that he would be holed up in a secret bunker, looking for a spell to talk to dogs, Kevin would have told them they were crazy and yet, here he was, a few hours later, reading some sort of Inuit lore on communicating with animal species. He quickly called Sam back, telling him what he had found and, seeing a chance for some down time, he walked back to his room. Back in high school, all he had to worry about was writing his essay to get into college and becoming the first Asian-American president, which had seemed like a crazy dream, but now, anything was possible. After all, he could have just saved lives by finding a spell to help his friends talk to dogs and his life usually consisted of translating some angel gibberish written by the scribe of a god in which he never believed. He walked back into his room, his hangover long forgotten and, seeing his bag from the corner of his eye, decided that now was the perfect time to unpack. No Winchester on his back about translating the tablets or finding out things about some strange monster and no demons or angels to run away from. Yes, it was now or never. 

He grabbed the backpack, dragging it towards his bed and sat on the surprisingly comfortable mattress. For a place so old, this bunker was amazing, he could definitely get used to living here. He unzipped his bag and sighed. It would be hard to make his room homely with so little things to call his own. He could always go out later and get more clothes or books but if this bunker ended up not being safe enough again, he’d need to be able to pack up his things quickly and leave. The simple thought of abandoning this place made him feel sick. He just wanted to feel safe and at home for once. Thankfully, the bunker had proved safe from everything they knew about for now. Hopefully, that would stay true. 

He looked around the room then back to his bag. It wasn’t much but it could still improve the room. It didn’t take long for him to put his clothes away since he didn’t own a lot. The few books he still owned were then stacked neatly on one of the bedside tables with his laptop. There was only one thing left. He opened one of the books, flipping through quickly before he found what he was looking for. He was glad the pictures had stayed intact, protected between the pages of the hard cover book. For a while, he hadn’t been sure keeping them was a good idea, not only were they a reminder of his old life, the one he could never have back, but if a demon or a monster found them, it could give them something to use against Kevin but with his girlfriend long dead and his mother held captive by Crowley’s minions, he had nothing to fear anymore. A wave of nostalgia hit him when he looked at the three pictures, one of him and Channing, one of him and his mother and the last one of Channing on her own. He’d have to buy a frame to put them in soon, in the meantime, they’d stay in the book to keep them safe. This might not be the life he wished he had, but it was a new beginning and it wasn’t that bad considering where he had been before. Content with that thought, he laid down on his bed. The moment his head hit the pillow, his phone rang again. One look at the caller ID told him it was Sam and he sighed again. Well, this was part of his life now apparently.


End file.
